


This Really Isn’t Kansas, Is It

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [31]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Original Character(s), Science Fiction & Fantasy, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: There's more than one universe, and God isn't supreme in all of them.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez/OMC (Implied)
Series: Devil's Trap [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/663677
Comments: 47
Kudos: 331





	This Really Isn’t Kansas, Is It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, long time no see! I'm sorry for having taken so long with this, but I decided not to post individual chapters this time and not keep people waiting for me to get my ass in gear with the conclusion, so I wrote this whole thing to post in one go. As always, thank you, thank you, thank you for all your kudos and comments that have kept me going for so long, and I hope that you'll like this newest instalment.
> 
> With this series, I have tried to imagine where the show might eventually go, and now, in its final season, it's really looking like we will get something like what I have envisioned in my small way (only it'll probably be much more awesome). I am immensely looking forward to it! Anyway, this part is me going cosmic before the show does, lol.

Chloe woke up with a confused memory of her dream and a sense of having overslept. Hastily opening her eyes and gearing up to panicking, she found the bedside clock and relaxed; plenty of time still left until she’d need to get up.

Then she realized where her perceived urgency had come from - Lucifer had left the bed. Recently, he’d fallen into the habit of staying under the covers with her, dozing or quietly preening his wings until she decided to get up, so this was unusual.

He hadn’t gotten far, though. Looking around, she found the Devil in his silk pyjamas sitting on his side of the bed, cross legged, facing her but looking down on his own hand, a soft, dreamy expression on his face. The index finger of his right hand was softly brushing across the stone on his wedding ring.

It was a smooth, oval stone that appeared white. It would remain white for as long as Chloe continued to love him. Divine magic took care of that. And he was caressing this physical manifestation of her love, looking slightly incredulous but mostly happy.

It was that slight hint of insecurity that tugged at her heartstrings. Even now, even after all this time, he still wasn’t quite sure that this was really his, that she really loved him, loved the Devil, would keep loving him. He still needed to see the evidence, to make sure that it was true.

She must have made some sound or movement, because he looked up, that same bemused expression on his face, and smiled when he found her awake. This smile, she was pleased to note, was all happy, with none of the doubt.

“Good morning, my love,” he said softly.

“G’mornng,” she grunted, her vocal cords as uncooperative as her tongue this soon after waking up. To make up for it, and to banish that look from earlier from his face, she opened her arms in invitation.

He came into them with a happy sigh, lying down next to her, deliberately not crushing her but still close enough to inundate her with his devilish heat, and she pulled his head down onto her shoulder so she could stroke his face with one hand and put her other one onto his back, between his wings, even though they were currently not in this dimension.

He stretched reflexively at the touch to that spot on his back like he always did, and then he went limp, purring on an exhale.

For a long while, she silently stroked him, his back, his brows, his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and, when he turned his face into her hand, his closed lids and lips. The needy urgency he had always displayed when she did this for him was still there, but it was lessening slowly; each time he began to relax sooner, trusting more that he would have this again, that it wouldn’t be the last time she showered him with affection.

It was a work in progress, getting the Devil accustomed to being loved.

At one point, she framed his face with both hands, stroking his brows with her thumbs, and looked into his eyes as best she could from this angle. “I love you, Lucifer,” she whispered. “In case the ring telling you wasn’t enough.”

He smiled softly. “As I love you. My Miracle.”

His eyes closed as she went back to stroking his face, and she carded her fingers into his hair to touch his scalp, causing them to open again. “You can shift,” she whispered after a moment, saying it out loud even though she didn’t really need to after all this time. “If you want to.”

Apparently, he did, because his hair vanished and his skin turned red and cragged and leathery, and she kept stroking it, putting one hand onto his back to brush her fingers along the protruding spines there.

He hummed, deep in his throat, his softly glowing eyes closing in bliss.

She went on stroking him, softly, slowly, hypnotically, now and then answering his hums with one of her own until at last, he lay quietly, no longer chasing after her touch. She turned her head so her cheek rested against his skull, breathing in his smell, slowing her movements. His breaths were deepening.

She hoped he would fall asleep like this, just so he could wake up again like this, surrounded by love. Maybe experiencing this would further erode his deep-seated distrust that this was truly his, further heal him from his touch starvation. Then he did seemingly grow heavier as sleep took him, completely relaxed now.

She stopped moving and simply held him as he slept breathing hot breaths against her neck, as vulnerable in sleep and in her presence as he could possibly be. The Devil, the alleged source of all evil, the eternal tempter that led mankind to damnation, drooling gently onto her shoulder, one clawed hand twitching on her stomach.

So scary.

* * *

"Tantilenious," Nathaniel said earnestly, apropos of nothing.

Lucifer, seated at the kitchen island next to his young son, a cup of probably spiked coffee in hand, frowned. "’Tantilenious’? You mean 'tantalizing', right?”

The Nephilim beamed up at him. "No.  _ Tantilenious." _

The Devil shook his head in confusion. "What’s that supposed to mean, Spawn?”

“It means, full of tantils."

Chloe, watching the proceedings over the rim of her own coffee cup, could tell that the fledgling was trying to keep a straight face, but the grin was clearly trying to get out despite his best efforts.

Trixie, currently busy spooning up her cereal, didn’t have those concerns. She was grinning broadly.

Lucifer looked at Chloe beseechingly, clearly out of his depth with this further manifestation of childlike imagination.

Chloe, who remembered this phase from Trixie’s early childhood with much fondness, kept her own face suitably serious as she looked at Nathaniel. “And what are tantils, Birdie?”

“They’re tiny little things that live among the dust motes,” he said with all the earnestness only small children are capable of. “If you look real close, you can see them flying from mote to mote. They ride them.”

Lucifer’s frown deepened as he turned his head to follow his son’s gaze to where the dust motes were indeed dancing in the morning sunlight, apparently trying to see what his son was seeing and naturally doomed to disappointment.

It was really hard for Chloe to keep her deadpan expression at this point. She couldn’t even tell who was being more adorable - the Devil or the Antichrist. “Okay,” she said solemnly. “Need to be careful not to breathe in any tantils, then.”

Lucifer’s mystified expression was priceless.

By then, the struggle became too much, and the little Nephilim burst into giggles. “There are no tantils, silly Daddy!” he forced out.

She joined, reaching out to hug him. “You’re a tantil yourself,” she smiled. How she loved him.

Lucifer’s face assumed an expression of abject relief.

She was aware that he was deeply worried by this new phase Nathaniel had recently entered into. Making things up and playing pretend were a part of childhood as she had tried to explain to him, but this apparently was too close to lying for Lucifer’s comfort, and he had trouble accepting that his son apparently was human enough for this transgression.

Only yesterday, Nath had insisted on being called ‘Sir Adalbert the dragonslayer’ all through dinner, which Lucifer had refused to do, causing his son to sulk and Trixie to intervene.

“Lucifer,” she’d said severely, “you’re a spoilsport.”

He had looked at her with his how-dare-you face. “The Devil is the opposite of a spoilsport, Offspring. But. I’ll gladly call him dragonslayer as soon as he has indeed slain a dragon. Not that the poor things deserve to be slain.” He considered that. “At least, not all of them.”

“It’s pretend!” Trixie had insisted, ignoring that tangent with visible difficulty. “It’s harmless fun! He’s not going to think he really is a dragonslayer if you call him that, you know. Children know very well what’s real and what isn’t.”

“Yeah,” Chloe had interjected, “what’s the big deal, anyhow? You’re usually so eager to do roleplay on stings, down to the costume and everything. Why’s this different?”

He’d looked at her, open-mouthed. “I don’t know,” he’d admitted after a brief pause rife with contemplation. “It just is.”

Trixie made a ‘duh’ face. “Just pretend you’re on a sting, then.”

“Right,” Lucifer had drawled, “you want me to pretend something in order to pretend something else. I’d be so far left of reality I’d be approaching it from the other side.”

And that had been that, apparently.

“Okay, gang,” Chloe resumed, “time to get ready. Trixie, don’t forget to pack your bag. Nathie, your Auntie Maze will be here soon, and I want you to promise me that you won’t let her get you into any trouble.”

That earned her an askance look. “Define ‘trouble’”, the little smartass demanded.

Chloe, who recognized that turn of phrase, gave Lucifer a pointed look that the Devil returned with an expression of artful innocence.

She nearly groaned. It was clearly going to be one of  _ those _ days. Sometimes, being the responsible adult really sucked.

* * *

“So,” Ella was saying, zooming in on a still from traffic cam footage, “if you’ll look at that really sweet and crazily custom modding right here, it’s glaringly obvious that, despite the new coat of paint and different plate, this is definitely the same set of wheels as in that other…” She trailed off. “Lucifer, are you feeling okay?”

Turning, Chloe noticed the vacant expression on Lucifer’s face that must have alarmed Ella.

He frowned. “I’m not sure. Something really strange is happening. I can feel it.”

Ella grinned. “You just missed the chance to say something like feeling a disturbance in the Force, dude.”

He didn’t acknowledge the quip, which was such a strong symptom of something really wrong that Chloe felt her worry crank up. Then he turned to her, eyes wide. “Chloe, I --”

And he vanished. Gone from one second to the next. No sound, no light effect, just gone.

Chloe met Ella’s wide eyes. “Call Sachiel,” she said, whipping out her own phone to call Amenadiel. “That didn’t look like something from Hell snatched him,” she commented as she waited for the call to connect. “I’ve seen that, and it looked completely different.” She frowned at the persistent dial tone. “Come on, Amenadiel.”

Ella looked at her, her phone at her ear. “Sach’s not picking up, either.”

Then Amenadiel was there. “ _ I’m sorry, Chloe, but I can’t help you with whatever it is. There’s a situation in Heaven. We’re all leaving Earth for a bit.” _

“Amenadiel, wait! Lucifer’s gone! He just vanished, just now, right before our eyes!”

“ _ We know,” _ Amandiel’s voice came back. “ _ That’s why we’re leaving. I’m sorry, Chloe. Gotta go.” _

“Amenadiel! Tell me what I can do!”

A brief pause. “ _ Don’t bother looking for him on Earth, Chloe. I promise we’ll do what we can, but this is out of human hands.” _

“Amenadiel! He’s my husband! Don’t keep me out of the loop, dammit!”

But the line was dead. And Ella was still waiting for her call to Sachiel to connect.

Before Chloe could gather another thought, her phone rang.

“ _ Decker!” _ Maze said shrilly on the other end of the line. “ _ What the hell is going on? I can’t feel Lucifer anymore.  _ Nathaniel  _ can’t feel Lucifer anymore. And I’m not equipped to handle hysterical bird spawn. Get your ass back here, right now.” _

* * *

Lucifer came to slowly.

He felt like he was high, but without the, well, high. Still, what his senses reported didn’t make sense. He was seeing soundwaves. There was a sensation of cold in his ears. His skin thrummed with vibrations. He might or might not be floating. Impossible to tell, because he couldn’t feel his body. He didn’t know where his arms, legs, or wings were, couldn’t see them, couldn’t move them. But he was pretty sure he was getting nauseous.

“For goodness sake,” he muttered, or thought he did, because he couldn’t hear himself speak, or feel his mouth move.

_ Get this sorted, _ he ordered himself.  _ I can’t get anything done like this. _

And then, he promptly passed out again, which he supposed was just as well.

* * *

“So,” Maze said slowly, looking at everyone present in the Decker-Morningstar residence - Chloe, Ella, Dan, Nathaniel, and Ephraim -, “this is the sitch. Lucifer disappeared, and all the angels --” she looked at Ephraim, “... uh, the full-blooded angels, have gone back up to Heaven, presumably to decide how to get him back. We have to figure out what we can do to help from down here.”

Nodding in agreement, Chloe hugged Nathaniel closer to herself. The young Nephilim had calmed down a bit, but the way he hid his face against her neck as he clung to her still told of his distress. She tried to imagine how he felt. The reassuring knowledge of his father’s existence that had been there, unquestioned, since he became old enough to be aware of it, had been ripped away from him. It had to be traumatic.

He whimpered, his fingers on her hands loosening, and she remembered that he could feel her emotions as long as he was touching her, so she tried to force her thoughts towards calmer waters. Lucifer’s big dark eyes looking at her lovingly, the smile on his face as he wished her a good morning. The smell of Trixie’s hair. The satisfaction of a solved case.

With a shuddering breath, Nathaniel closed his tiny hands about hers again.

“Well, this sucks,” Dan commented. “We were right in the middle of a case. I just lost the expert on my team.”

Chloe snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Dan acknowledged her a rueful nod. “Do we have any way at all of finding out what’s going on up there?” He gave the adult Nephilim in their midst a pointed look.

Ephraim returned the look placidly. “Only full-blooded angels and pure souls can enter the Silver City freely. I have no more or better ways of contacting them there than you do, Dan.”

Dan scoffed. “So, like what, thoughts and prayers?”

Ephraim shrugged. “Basically. It does work, you know.”

“I want my daddy,” Nathaniel objected tearfully. “Mommy wants him, too.”

Chloe smiled. Busted. So much for hiding her thoughts from her son. “Sure do, Birdie.”

“We all want him back, Nathie,” Ella said. “And we’re going to. This ain’t our first rodeo.” She gave Nathaniel a bright smile.

Right. Time to put her money where Ella’s mouth was and be constructive. “Let’s start with what we do know. It wasn’t a demonic thing that took Lucifer,” Chloe repeated her earlier thought. “From the Celestial reponse, we can conclude that they don’t know what’s going on, meaning that nothing divine was involved, either. What does that leave? What neither infernal nor divine thing could have taken Lucifer like that?”

“And brought him where no one can feel him,” Ephraim added. “Assuming he’s not destroyed.”

Nathaniel made a choked sobbing sound at that, prompting Chloe to give the elder Nephilim a dark look.

“This is probably war, Chloe,” Maze said. “No sugarcoating or hiding from the truth in war.”

This was one of the times where Chloe had to remind herself that most of her friends weren’t human. “Nathaniel’s only a baby, Maze.”

The demon’s expression did not waver. “A half-angel baby, sired by possibly the most powerful Archangel there is.”

“Still, a baby.”

“Guys,” Dan said, raising his hands placatingly.

“Anyway, he’s not destroyed,” Chloe stated, waving her hand with her wedding ring on her finger. The precious stone Lucifer had created for it was still glowing, imbued by a tiny spark of his Lightbringer essence. It would keep glowing for as long as Lucifer existed. “We do know that much.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel said, surprising everyone. “I’m trying not to cry, honest. But I’m so scared.”

Maze got up from her part of the couch to hunker down in front of him. “I know you are, and it’s okay to be scared.” She reached out her hands, inviting the Nephilim to touch her.

He did, and Chloe, still holding him, could see his light gray eyes turn dark brown like Maze’s.

They held this tableau for a minute. Slowly, Nathaniel’s face cleared. “You’re scared, too,” he said in wonder. “And it’s making you angry. And  _ that’s _ making you brave.”

The demon smiled. “You got it, little one. That’s how you do it.”

Nathaniel let go of her hands. His eyes returned to their normal color even as his expression set into a fierce mask, and with a whoosh of displaced air, his wings emerged. “Let’s get Daddy back, then.”

Nodding, Ephraim shrugged out his wings as well.

Swept along with this show of celestial combat readiness, Chloe felt the familiar determination that had seen her through a lot of close calls rise within her. “Right. We need a plan of action. First things first. How do we --”

She interrupted herself as the sound of a winged being landing could be heard from the terrace, hoping against hope that it was Lucifer. The body shape she could see beyond the drapes was so familiar….

But the angel who entered, while looking very much like Lucifer, was blond and clean-shaven. “Luci has been dragged into a conflict between Father and another deity,” Michael announced without preamble. “He is being held hostage in another dimension to compel Father to comply with some ridiculous terms that are completely unacceptable. We are therefore going to launch a strike against that deity to give you time and opportunity to get Luci out of his confinement and thus remove the other deity’s leverage. Another messenger will be sent later to inform you of the details.” He gave them a regal nod, spread his wings, and was gone.

“Well, a good day to you, too, Mike,” Chloe muttered into the silence he left behind.

Dan shook his head. “A war of the gods,” he said, awed. “I’d pitch that to all the studios in town if it weren’t already a thing.”

* * *

When Lucifer next opened his eyes, he was immensely relieved to find that his stern talking to himself had yielded some results. He could at least see again. With his eyes, that is.

What he was seeing didn’t make sense, but he was convinced that this was a temporary setback that would resolve itself any minute.

Meanwhile, he tried to move his arms, only to find that he couldn’t. Raising and turning his head from side to side - and glad that he could move at all and that his body felt like his again - he found that his arms were shackled and chained, stretched out and away from his body to both sides, and that he was lying on his stomach on some sort of unyielding material. His wings, too, were restrained, stretched upwards. His legs were free, but what with the positions his arms and wings were forced into, he couldn’t do much with them. He couldn’t even get up on his knees because his arms held his chest down on the hard surface he was lying on - stone? pure energy? - and the resulting position might not be the best idea in his current situation.

Be that as it may, he was getting angry. You can’t just go and shackle the Devil.

The shackles, however, didn’t seem to know that. They stubbornly resisted his attempts to will them to open, which was impossible. Or at least, it should be impossible. Only hell-forged locks made for that purpose or locks imbued with the requisite magic could hold the Devil, and what was currently encircling his wrists didn’t even look like metal. Nor were the chains attached to anything he could see; they extended into the distance with no visible end.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. And then he gathered his full divine fury and infernal wrath, gathered all his celestial strength with a roar, and pulled.

No earthly material would be able to resist him. This one, though, did. He didn’t even manage to bend this strange non-metal material. Impossible. Plainly impossible.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered again, panting with exertion. There was only one conclusion.

He wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

* * *

“Well,” Ella said, “unless this whole thing can be settled with a dance-off, I don’t know how much use I’ll be.” She side-eyed Nathaniel. “And maybe we should leave this to the grown-ups after all, huh?”

Chloe shook her head. “I’ve seen you in the shooting gallery, Ella. Besides, we might need an outside-the-box solution, and a scientist. Remember War of the Worlds?”

Ella’s face brightened. “Oh man, that was awesome. Yeah, I get your point.” She got up. “I’ll just head to the precinct to grab my kit. Not the forensics kit, though. The special kit.”

“And Nathaniel is of divine origin, with a God-given power,” Ephraim added. “As young as he is, he’s more capable than he himself may realize.”

Ella gave him a thumbs-up and headed outside, the door banging closed behind her.

“I’ll go get my knives,” Maze announced. “And I’ll bring some takeout. We’ll need our strength.”

Nathaniel perked up at that. “Burgers!” he piped in his high child’s voice, already back to being his normal, happy self. “Burgers, burgers, burgers!”

“Burgers it is,” Maze agreed, smiling. “See ya.”

She left, and now, it was just Chloe, Dan, Nathaniel, and Ephraim.

“Well,” Dan said briskly, “I’ve got my gun right here.”

Chloe gave him a smile. It was good to see him so ready to come to the Devil’s rescue.

The elder Nephilim, meanwhile, was looking at Chloe with trepidation. “I’m afraid to ask,” he said hesitantly. “But needs must. There is a sword that I had in my possession when we, uh, met. Do you know what happened to it?”

Chloe remembered the sword that had almost killed Lucifer very well. Trying not to give in to the memories surrounding it - Nathaniel was still sitting on her lap -, she nodded. “I think Amenadiel took it. Do you think it might be useful?”

Ephraim relaxed as he took in her calm attitude. Clearly, he’d been afraid of opening up old wounds for her. “It was forged on Earth, but it has been imbued with occult forces that render it powerful enough to hurt even the Devil. It may also be capable of harming extradimensional beings, if that’s who our opponents are. It’s worth a try at least.” He put his hands together in prayer. “I’ll ask Amenadiel where I can find it.”

* * *

Lucifer’s shouts seemed to have attracted attention, because amidst the swirling colors surrounding him, he thought he could discern three darker shapes approaching him from three directions, one of which being down, relative to him.

“Finally!” he greeted them. “I must say, the service is terrible around here. Pretty sure I would have booked something with a better view, too. If, you know, I’d been given a choice.”

The shapes halted, floating about without giving him any sense of where up or down really was. They swirled, coalesced into something vaguely humanoid-shaped, then dispersed again, only to re-shape into a single jellyfish-like blob.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop showing off. I get it. You’re non-corporeal and can be whatever you wish to be. How about we skip all that and get to the heart of the matter. Why am I here?”

One of the shapes detached and advanced, again assuming a form with four extremities and a head. A hole appeared where a human’s mouth would be.

But the sounds that emerged from this hole were alien, unintelligible.

Lucifer frowned. That had never happened before. He was the Devil, he spoke and understood everything.

The shape spoke again. And again, Lucifer couldn’t understand a thing.

“That can’t be,” he said out loud. “I should be able to understand you. I can naturally speak with all the souls that my Father made. How else could I tempt them, torture them in Hell?” A thought struck. “Unless…. Unless you weren’t made by my Father. Oh dear. This really isn’t Kansas, is it. Bloody hell.”

It all made sense now. He couldn’t affect the locks on the shackles because they weren’t of his world. None of his powers would work here. He couldn’t tempt these beings, couldn’t learn their desires. He couldn’t even speak with them.

He glared at his surroundings, ignoring the beings completely. “Now, how do I get back home? The Detective needs my help with the case!”

As if in response - he had to hope that they didn’t understand him anymore than he did them, everything else would be a severe blow to his pride - the three beings turned into whirling maelstroms, and from one second to the next, Lucifer’s world became an inferno of pain.

* * *

They had just finished the burgers when Sachiel landed on the terrace.

“Father!” Ephraim greeted him. “What’s the situation?”

“Have you heard from Lucifer?” Chloe added.

“Are you okay?” Ella said, earning herself a look from Chloe that she returned with a smile and a shrug.

“We know where Luci is,” Sachiel said, giving Ella a reassuring smile but declining to answer her. “Mike and Amenadiel are assembling the Heavenly army to launch a frontal assault as a distraction. I have been tasked with getting you -” he nodded at Maze - “to Lucifer, to free him.”

“Wait a minute,” Chloe began.

“Hey!” Ella objected at the same time.

“Might I suggest -” Ephraim said.

Dan merely slapped his own thigh in frustration.

Sachiel looked at each of them in turn. “I can only bring one of you into the Chaos Dimension.”

“Chaos dimension,” Ella echoed. “Sounds chaotic. Is it like, total entropy? All the laws of thermodynamics overturned? Light is sound, sound is temperature, that sort of thing?”

“If you want to avoid a full-on war with the denizens of that dimension,” Chloe said into Sachiel’s thoughtful silence, “you need me to calm Lucifer down before he, I don’t know, goes full Lightbringer.”

Dan gave her a look.

“He created the stars,” Chloe elaborated, who had spent a few mind-blowing hours on the Internet at one point after learning this little fact. “Which means he can cause thermonuclear reactions. He’s a living atom fusion bomb.” She shrugged. “You don’t want him to let loose with that, that’s all I’m saying.”

“And I highly doubt that a demon can be of more use than a divine being,” Ephraim launched his own defense.

Maze bristled at that. “I’m the best bet,  _ half-angel, _ ” she said with her usual lack of modesty. “I’m going.”

“She’s right,” Sachiel said. “Mazikeen has spent eons fighting, more or less, and you’re still young, Ephraim, and inexperienced compared to her.”

The Nephilim scowled but conceded the point.

“How are you going to find Daddy?” Nathaniel’s high voice interjected. “If you can’t trust your senses. That’s what you meant, Auntie Ella, right?”

Everyone stopped to look at the young Nephilim.

“That’s right, Baby,” Ella said. “See, we get our input for our senses due to specific scientific phenomena, like our eyes can only perceive light, our ears can only perceive sound. For light to be visible to your eyes, you need emitters that emit the part of the electromagnetic spectrum that we can actually perceive ….” She trailed off, realizing that she was probably asking too much of her audience.

Nathaniel was nodding, though. “I know. If the light gets red enough, you can feel it on your skin. If it gets too violet, you get a headache. And if sound gets too deep, you can feel it in your chest.”

Ella beamed. “That’s right! But in the chaos dimension, things would be seriously different than here. We can only guess how different, of course. Our senses may just stop working. Or the light there can’t be picked up by our eyes at all. Or you can taste sound. Whatever.”

“Once we’re there,” Sachiel explained, “the connection between him and us will reactivate and we’ll be able to feel him even without the aid of our normal senses.”

Maze snapped her fingers. “Wasting time. Let’s get going.”

“I still think -” Chloe began, but Sachiel interrupted her.

“Sorry, Chloe, Father’s orders. I am to take the demon. None of us is willing to risk you, or any other human.”

Maze gave him a dirty look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bird Boy. You’ll be glad you chose me.”

Sachiel replied by picking her up and spreading his wings. Maze held on with one arm around his neck, one of her knives ready in her free hand.

Chloe swallowed down her disappointment. “Good luck, guys.”

“Take care!” Ella nearly shouted.

And then they were gone.

Dan slapped his thigh again, turning away, fairly radiating frustration and disappointment.

Chloe watched him and Ella, who was despondently eyeing her now useless medkit. That seemed to be that. She was leaving the fate of her Devil to others. She was, in effect, abandoning him.

But did she have a choice? As much as she’d hate herself forever if this went sideways, there was nothing she could do. She wasn’t even in the same dimension as him.

Ephraim cleared his throat. “I will no doubt incur the wrath of the Family for even suggesting this, but… there is a small chance that I may be able to enter the chaos dimension, now that I know what I’m looking for.”

“Take me with you,” Chloe said immediately, to gasps from Dan and Ella.

“The risk is great that I may get lost between dimensions,” Ephraim cautioned. “I have never done this before --”

“I don’t care about the risk.”

“Chlo’,” Dan said, “I understand how you feel, I do, but think of Trixie.” He nodded at Nathaniel, who was following this exchange wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “Think of him.”

Picking up his cue, Nathaniel hopping down off Chloe’s lap and spread his wings, tiny but determined. “I’m coming with.”

Chloe crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Absolutely not.”

That earned her a rebellious look. “You can’t stop me, Mom.”

“But I can.” Dan made a grab for him.

Nathaniel ducked away and took to the air, easily fluttering out of his reach.

Dan grimaced. “Nathaniel! Come back down here this instant!”

“No!”

“We’re wasting time,” Ephraim reminded them as he picked up his sword and offered Chloe his free arm. “We need to go now, if you’re coming.” He, too, spread his wings.

“Chloe, don’t,” Dan said quickly, momentarily giving up on trying to fish Nathaniel out of the air. “Let the Celestials handle this. You’re only human.”

“It’ll be seriously timey-wimey territory out there, Decker,” Ella added unhappily.

“I’m gonna go save Dad,” Nathaniel yelled, still flitting back and forth just underneath the ceiling. He scrunched up his little face in concentration - and vanished.

“Nathie!” Chloe shouted futilely. “Ugh.” She held onto the Nephilim. “Ephraim, let’s go after him, quick.”

She hoped there would be time and opportunity later to reflect how much Nathaniel was his father’s son, both for rushing headlong into danger and for forcing her hand by doing so. And as the familiar world vanished for her, she knew that she wouldn’t even reprimand him for it, because he was merely going where she herself truly desired to be.

* * *

‘Timey-wimey’ had been about right. Once they had passed through the blue-tinted infernal plane - “close your eyes, Chloe, it’s going to get weird from here on out” - nothing her senses reported made any sense. Non-senses reporting nonsense, like colorful sounds and loud touches. She couldn’t feel her tongue.

Then, somehow, Nathaniel’s familiar shape coalesced in front of her, tiny wings flapping slowly as he kept his position in mid-air. His mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear him.

Frowning, he reached out with both hands, and she could see her own hands do the same. They touched.

Feeling flowed back into her body. Her ears popped.

“... you hear me, Mommy?”

She managed a nod.

Behind her, she could now also hear the sound of Ephraim’s wings beating slowly, and his deep, even breaths. “Are you alright, Chloe?” the older Nephilim said.

She breathed in and out and cleared her throat. “Think so,” she forced out. Her surroundings began to resolve into blackness with shapeless, colored mists and occasional bright pinpoints of light; it was a bit like being in outer space, except that she could breathe normally. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, actually.”

Nathaniel beamed at her. “That’s probably because we’re touching you, Uncle Ephraim and I. Our divinity protects your human senses, Mommy.” He said it completely matter-of-factly, without conceit.

Chloe just went with it, as had been par for the course ever since she’d found out about Lucifer. “Well, don’t let go of me, then, Birdie,” she merely said, closing her fingers about his tiny hands. “Can one of you sense Lucifer? Or see Sach and Maze? They have to be around here somewhere, right?”

“I can’t see anyone,” Ephraim said. “But I can feel Lucifer.”

“Me, too,” Nathaniel supplied, pointing. “He’s over there somewhere.”

* * *

Even in hindsight, Chloe couldn’t tell how long it had taken them to actually get to Lucifer. Her sense of time was off, and distances appeared strange and inconsistent. What looked to be just a few yards away and should take them only a few seconds to reach seemingly took hours, and tiny points in the distance suddenly loomed huge and close with them hardly moving.

Throughout it all, she kept her hold on Nathaniel’s small hand, the fledgling bravely flying ahead as she was carried by Ephraim. Beneath her overwhelming worry for Lucifer, she felt intense pride in her small son. He looked calm and composed, small face set in an expression of determination whenever he turned back to check on her, and his example was helping her, too.

Maybe that picking up on feelings thing he had went both ways. Maybe his composure was bleeding over to her.

Finally, there was a pinpoint of light that actually seemed to grow bigger the closer they came. As they approached, it resolved itself into a winged figure. White wings, glowing softly.

Lucifer. Not moving, seemingly hanging suspended in this strange world. Which wasn’t normal at all. If he wasn’t moving, something must be seriously wrong.

“Come  _ on,” _ Chloe said harshly, hanging onto her composure by a thread. “We need to get to him!”

“I’m actually going pretty fast,” Ephraim said, panting with exertion. “Besides, it could be a trap.”

Chloe looked again. She felt no headwind. What landmarks she could see - if you could call them that - were only moving very, very slowly. No. Even with this information, she had no sense of fast movement. Oh well, she’d just have to take his word for it, then.

But. Lucifer wasn’t moving. Her ring - she checked, driven by an inchoate dread - still glowed, but… he wasn’t moving. It was so unlike him. “I don’t care about traps! He needs rescuing! Now!”  _ Which we can’t do very well if we end up in whatever shit he’s in,  _ her cop-trained self objected.

_ Okay. Deep breaths. As long as the stone glows, he’s alive. Focus on that. _ “Right. Can you see Sach and Maze yet?”

“Over there!” Nathaniel piped, pointing.

Sighting along his small arm, Chloe was once again reminded of her inferior human senses. There was nothing ‘over there’ that she could see. “Well,” she said doubtfully, “let’s get over there then and join forces.”

* * *

To Chloe’s surprise, Sachiel and Maze were dealing with the chaos dimension even worse than she was. When they found them, both of them were gazing vacantly, each in a different direction, blindly clinging to each other like drowning rats.

Sachiel snapped out of it as soon as Ephraim touched him. “Dear Father in Heaven! Thank you, son. I was afraid that this would never end and I would perish like this.” He looked positively haunted; eyes huge, skin pale and sweaty.

As soon as Ephraim touched her, Maze grunted something in Lilim and took several deep breaths, focusing on the older Nephilim with visible difficulty.

Ephraim smiled. “Look who’s in need of help from a mere  _ half-angel.” _

She had the grace to look grudgingly embarrassed. “Point.” She breathed some more, then cleared her throat. “Now, if you’ve finished gloating, can we start beating things up?”

“What are you doing here?” Sachiel wanted to know, then reconsidered. “Actually, never mind. How come you’re not as affected as we are, son?” He kept opening and closing his fingers to get the cramps out of them from when he’d been holding on to Maze. His voice still sounded unsteady, and the fluffed feathers on his wings only smoothed back down slowly.

Ephraim shrugged. “No idea. Maybe my human ancestry is actually an advantage in this crazy dimension.”

Nathaniel flapped his wings urgently, still holding on to Chloe’s hand and pointing with his free hand. “Daddy’s over there. We need to get to him!”

She had no objections to that one, so she squeezed her son’s small fingers. “Lead the way, Birdie.”

They all advanced in the same strange inconsistent way, zooming in quickly one second and crawling along snail-like the next.

“Is that Lucifer?” Maze asked, squinting. “Damn. I can barely make anything out.”

“Me neither,” Sachiel agreed gloomily.

Maze frowned. “If the two of you -” she nodded at Ephraim and Nathaniel - “are the only ones that aren’t affected, it sure doesn’t look good for God’s Heavenly Host and their attack on this place.”

Chloe felt herself grow cold. She hadn’t even considered that. So much for God launching a diversion. “Uh, would God Himself be affected?”

“He shouldn’t be,” Sachiel said, holding hands with Ephraim, who had sheathed his sword to aid his father as he still held Chloe in his other arm. “He’s all-powerful. But I doubt He’ll actually be involved in this. He hasn’t gotten involved in anything in six thousand years.”

“He stopped your war a while ago,” Chloe pointed out. “And He personally smote that military guy. I think He’s regretting being so standoffish all this time.”

“Anyway,” Maze said sharply, “we have to consider the worst case scenario - no Divine intervention, and we’re on our own out here. Nathie, can you carry me?”

“He’s not going to the front line, Maze!” Chloe protested before her small son could open his mouth.

Maze rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to  _ be  _ on the front line of the battle, Decker. I’m here to free Lucifer. If I’m to do that, I need to be able to trust my senses. Especially if His Divine Majesty won’t come through with that diversion.”

_ Oh. Right. _

Ephraim turned to the demon. ““I’ll carry you, Maze, and guide Sachiel. Nathaniel is strong enough to carry Chloe.”

“What’s your plan?” Chloe asked.

“You can help Lucifer while we keep those things over there away from you.” He pointed into the relative blackness at something Chloe couldn’t see.

She supposed it made sense. After all, that had been her reasoning for coming along in the first place - helping Lucifer keep from going nuclear, literally. “Alright, then.”

Maze doubtfully squinted into the distance, then shrugged. “If you’re seeing something for us to beat up, I’m all for it.”

“I’ll carry you, Mommy,” Nathaniel said eagerly, holding out his tiny arms. He seemed to be unaffected by all the weirdness surrounding them. All Chloe could detect in his face was tension and worry.

Holding onto him, keeping her head away from his small wings to give him room as he made slow but steady progress through the chaos of light and sound, she found herself wondering just how powerful her son really was.

When they got their first good look at Lucifer, still from far away, all these thoughts fled.

He wasn’t moving. He had his wings out, drawn in and up so the feathered shoulders covered his head, which was bowed; his arms and legs were stretched out and his wings wrapped around him. The worst, though, were his feathers. Puffed up as far as Chloe had ever seen them, they were stained red, especially at the tips of his wings. Whatever the injury, it was still bleeding - Chloe was horrified to realize that the gently drifting tiny red balls surrounding Lucifer were, in fact, drops of blood floating about in this nearly weightless world, with new ones continuing to ooze from his feathers.

Then she realized what was wrong - all Lucifer’s primaries had been clipped, each one cut off right in the middle, and his blood was slowly draining out of the ragged stems.

“Daddy…?” Nathaniel’s tremulous voice came close to Chloe’s ear.

No response. Maybe they weren’t close enough yet. Maybe he couldn’t hear. Maybe his senses were too affected by the chaos dimension.

Nevertheless, Chloe tried, “Lucifer! It’s okay, we’re here!”

Still nothing.

Nathaniel doubled his efforts to get to him, small wings flapping furiously as he fought to go faster.

Chloe felt a thrill of terrible doubt. She made him vulnerable. Would her presence here make things worse for him? Should she stay back, let Nathaniel…?

No. Not her baby, not all alone.

“Daddy!” Nathaniel yelled into her ear, his voice thin and tremulous, but he wasn’t crying. Her brave half devil son merely kept beating his wings as fast as he could to get them there faster.

Lucifer groaned.

Chloe couldn’t tell whether this was a sound of pain or a response to them, whether he could actually see or hear them. His head was still bowed.

Not for long, though, because as they approached and were finally close enough to make out his expression, he raised his head to stare straight ahead.

“Lucifer!” Chloe called, trying to get his attention.

To no avail, as it turned out, because the Devil kept staring into the distance, and as they watched, his eyes lit up. Not with the familiar hellfire red, though; they blazed a brilliant white.

_ Uh oh. _ “Lucifer!” Chloe yelled. If he went full Lightbringer here and now, he’d turn everything in the vicinity into a cinder.

But this time, he seemed to hear her. He turned his head and his brilliant eyes towards her, swiveled his shoulders, making his shredded wings disappear, and the white shine in his eyes faded.

“It’s us, Lucifer!” Chloe called again. “Don’t smite us, please.”

“We’re here, Dad,” Nathaniel said, noticeably trying to sound mature and absolutely not scared. After all, Chloe remembered, he had never seen his father manifest his celestial powers like this.

Lucifer worked his mouth, trying to speak, just as they finally reached him. “... are you doing here?” he forced out.

Chloe reached out to touch his one of his hands, dismayed to find that it was shackled.  _ One thing at a time, Decker, _ she told herself. At least his skin felt warm and alive. That was a good start. “Getting you out of here while Father’s Host is fighting your captors, apparently.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She wondered how much he could actually hear or understand in this crazy dimension. He seemed to be doing much better than Sachiel and Maze had; at least, he was focusing properly on her, so he obviously saw her clearly enough. His long fingers curled about her hand, holding on.

Then Nathaniel reached out and put one of his tiny hands onto Lucifer’s forearm. “Dad?” Chloe could see her son’s eyes turn black as he tuned in to his father’s feelings. Whatever he was feeling seemed to reassure him, because his small face lost a lot of its tenseness.

“Bloody hell,” Lucifer said, sounding exhausted but nowhere near as rattled as Sachiel had. “I really,  _ really _ hate it when something like this happens. A pawn in someone else’s game!”

“Are you alright?” Chloe reached out to push his tousled hair out of his eyes, idly wondering why he was still bound.

He grimaced. “I’m well enough to take violent issue with the way they treat their prisoners in this realm.”

She felt blazing relief at this characteristic reaction that proved to her that he was all there, and quite sane. She also recognized his evasion for what it was but decided to leave it for now. “I’ll help you file the complaint, my Lord. Let’s get out of here.”

He grimaced again, more strongly. “I’d love to, but I can’t. These things -” he shook his hands, indicating the shackles and chains - “are in the way.”

“But I thought -”

“Afraid they mean business, my love. It’s this place. It’s not under my control. Sod all I can do about ‘em.”

Her stomach sank. If he, the Devil, couldn’t get out of these things by virtue of being the Devil, then what were they supposed to do to free him? How could they possibly do what he couldn’t?

“Someone must have the key,” Nathaniel said thoughtfully, his eyes back to their normal light gray color now that he had let go of Lucifer.

She smiled indulgently. Children. “I doubt it’s gonna be that simple, Birdie.”

The young Nephilim returned her smile with a mulish expression. “Maybe it is exactly that simple.”

Well, she thought, it was worth a try.  _ Sachiel _ , she said in her mind,  _ if you can hear me, look for anything that looks like a key on these guys you’re fighting. _ There was no response, but she didn’t expect one. Prayer only went one way, after all.

“How bad is it, Luce?” she asked worriedly. She had no idea how painful clipped wings were for angels, who were most decidedly not birds as she kept being reminded. For one thing, bird feathers don’t bleed when damaged.

“I’ll live,” he grunted, pulling on his chains in frustration. “If I don’t die from humiliation, that is.”

Nathaniel, still holding on to Chloe with one arm and his wings slowly beating to keep his position, was looking pensive. “Is Grandfather here? In this dimension? Can you tell, Dad?”

Lucifer raised his head to look at him, then his eyes lost focus.

Chloe looked over her shoulder, trying to pierce the void around them for an idea what was up with Ephraim, Sach, and Maze. Were they fighting some unimaginable chaos life form? Had they reached anyone to fight? Were they even still alive?

But even with the aid of Nathaniel’s influence, she couldn’t make sense of the swirling colors and lights in the distance, couldn’t even tell how far away they were.

“Dad’s here,” Lucifer’s voice came. “Having fun smiting things and pummeling the local deity, if I get this correctly. Michael thinks they’ll make up soon and turn this whole shindig into a Godly reunion party.”

Chloe stared at him. “What?”

He shrugged as well as the chains would let him. “Can’t destroy God, or Gods, plural, so all they can really do is thump and slap each other for a bit until they decide that it’s boring. Also, who understands God better than another god? It’s like they’re members of a very exclusive club, complete with ritual duels now and then.” He pulled at the chains. “Anyway, I asked Him for a bit of help with this bind I’m in, but apparently He’s too busy to bother. Or maybe it’s lingering resentment.”

“Lucifer.”

“Kidding. Mostly.”

“Right.” She looked around. Still no trace of Maze and the two Celestials, at least none that she could see.

“There they are!” Nathaniel crowed just then, pointing at something he could apparently make out where Chloe’s human eyesight failed. “Maybe they found a key.”

As it turned out, they hadn’t. “That was frustrating,” Maze growled. “Can’t cut things that have no physical form. We needed to improvise.”

“Improvise?” Chloe echoed. “How?”

“Think bad thoughts at them, mostly,” Ephraim said while Sachiel just shrugged eloquently. “This place follows no rules that we’re familiar with. Thoughts will cause ripples where a strike does nothing.”

“Anyway, they’re gone. Dissipated.” Maze blew a loose lock of dark hair out of her face. “Good enough for me.”

“So you mean I can, what, just think myself out of this?” Lucifer extrapolated, sounding doubtful.

Maze shrugged. “Worth a try. Nothing makes sense here, so.”

“Well in that case, I’m screwed. Turns out I already tried that. I was absolutely convinced that these locks would open on my say so, or rather think so, until they didn’t, so….”

There was a pause while Chloe tried not to give in to despair.

Nathaniel’s little face brightened. “It’s just like tantils, Dad.”

That earned the young Nephilim a round of confused looks.

Still smiling, Nathaniel raised his hand. “I have the key.” He made his thumb and forefinger close around nothing. “It’s a beautiful key, black, cold metal, with sharp bits that look like teeth. It’ll fit perfectly.”

The adults around him looked skeptical as they beheld his empty hand.

Confidently, he flew closer to Lucifer’s right hand, dragging Chloe along with him, then mimed putting a key into a hole, which was tricky because the cuffs that bound the Devil didn’t even have a discernible lock, never mind a keyhole. That didn’t deter him at all, though, and, to everyone’s amazement, the energy shimmer around Lucifer’s wrist just… vanished.

“How…” Chloe began.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Lucifer said, shaking his newly freed arm.

“I told you, Dad,” Nathaniel said, flapping on to his father’s other arm. “Tantils are as real as this key.”

“I’m not disagreeing.” He watched as his other arm came free, then held out his hand. “Give me the key, then. I’ll do my legs by myself.”

Solemnly, Nathaniel held out his empty hand, and Lucifer carefully took the nothing he held between his fingers from him, bent forward, and managed to free himself. With a small nod to himself, he pocketed the nonexistent key.

“Wow.” Chloe shook her head. “You know what, I’m telling Trixie, and next time when she wants you to play pretend with her, you’re not getting out of it.”

* * *

What followed was somewhat anticlimactic. Once the Devil had been freed, the Celestials and demon plus human formed a chain, holding on to one another, the flyers started beating their wings, and after only a brief unintended detour into a dimension that looked exactly like a negative of their own – all colors inverted, rendering space a brilliant white while the stars appeared like black holes – they finally found themselves back on terra cognita. Chloe could even forgive a slight inaccuracy in their navigation that had initially made them end up somewhere in Siberia.

At last, the group landed on the terrace of the Morningstars' new home. Before anyone could say anything, Lucifer, who had kept his wings away during transit, relying on his angelic relatives to carry him, muttered a tight “excuse me” and disappeared inside.

Chloe watched him close the front door behind him. “Uhm,” she said intelligently, turning to the others. She guessed Lucifer felt he needed to be alone for a while, which could be due to anything from hurt pride at having been chained to not wanting to impose his injuries on anyone, all of which she would take care of shortly. Not wanting to be rude, though, she offered, “Do you want to come inside or....”

“Sure,” Maze said easily. “I’m still on bird boy sitting duty, right.”

Oh right, Chloe remembered. The day probably wasn’t over yet, no matter how much time seemed to have passed in the Chaos Dimension. Checking her phone, she found that it was barely lunch time, on the same day. They had left for the Chaos Dimension only half an hour ago. “Wow.”

“Besides,” the demon went on, oblivious to her amazement, “you’ll need some one-on-one to sort out His Nibs, Decker. He’ll be a big baby about his feathers. I’ve been there, and I sure am glad that it’s your job now.” She reached out a hand towards Nathaniel. “Come on, Spawn.”

They went inside, Nathaniel giving Chloe a cheerful wave, the irrepressible little devil.

“I think I'll join Father in his fight,” Sachiel added. “Now that our brother is safe, there should be nothing holding us back from using full force.”

“Have fun.” Chloe couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering back towards the house. The sight of Lucifer’s clipped and bleeding feathers was burned into her mind. She was pretty sure he would need help with them, at least with those on his back, even though she had no idea what to do. “Give Him my regards, yeah?”

“Of course.” He threw Ephraim a questioning look. “Do you intend to put that weapon of yours to use, or what?”

Ephraim brightened briefly at being included in this, then frowned. “Didn’t Lucifer say that this was only a formal duel or something?”

“Doesn’t mean that there won’t be a battle. It’s no fun unless something gets destroyed.” Sachiel put his arm around his son’s shoulder. “You need more Celestial company more often, clearly.”

“Can’t really argue with that,” the Nephilim said ruefully. He, too, nodded at Chloe. “See you.”

She watched them casually take to the air and disappear from view.

There was nothing keeping her now. She went inside to find Lucifer in the living room, sprawled on the sofa, the unavoidable glass of whisky in one hand, the other hand hanging limp across the armrest. He looked up when she entered and gave her a wan smile. “Not exactly how I pictured this day to go.” He frowned. “How much time has passed, anyway?”

“About half an hour.”

He didn’t respond to that bit of intel. Chloe regarded him unhappily. Images of bleeding feathers still interfered with the cozy picture of him reclining apparently comfortably, but the set look on Lucifer’s face told her that he was in pain, or about to clam up, or both. She was well aware of his penchant for avoiding his issues by ignoring them until they went away, a tactic that had probably stood him in good stead for all the millennia he’d been alone.

But he wasn’t alone anymore. Besides, she was a mother. “Lucifer.”

He gave her his blandly innocent look. “Hmm?”

“Tell me what I can do about your wings.” Both the ‘be honest about it’ and the ‘young man’ were implied in her tone.

His eyes widened as he escalated into the ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ stage of innocence. “I’m fine.”

She barely avoided tapping her foot, but she did cross her arms. “I saw your wings, Lucifer. I saw the blood dripping out of your feathers”

He shrugged. “It’s just feathers. I’ll grow new ones.”

She kept her face and expression, staring him down relentlessly.

It worked. Dropping the act, he sighed deeply. “To be completely honest, and in case I haven’t ruined your day enough already, I fear that I’ll need to pluck all the broken ones at some point, including those that I can’t reach, so that the new ones can grow in.” He made a complicated, rueful face. “You asked. But,” he continued with a bright smile before she could get a word in edgewise, “there’s no hurry. It’ll keep until tomorrow. Or next year.”

_ Yeah, right _ . She sat down next to him, close enough to feel his warmth, half leaning over him. “Can you fly like this?” She knew the answer, of course. He hadn’t used his wings getting out of the Chaos Dimension. Ergo, he couldn’t.

“I can get around perfectly well without flying.”

She opened her mouth.

“Besides,” he went on, “we have a case, Detective. It’s still early in the day; we should get back to the precinct.” He made to get up.

She put a hand on his chest to keep him where he was, ignoring the tantalizing feeling of firm muscles beneath her touch.

He looked at her, wide-eyed.

She’d have to be careful. His pride had already taken a walloping, what with being abducted and bound and having his wings clipped; implying that he might be weak or in need of help would certainly not improve matters. Best to appeal to their thing and to his sense of justice. “During the course of our last five cases,” she began, “you have used your wings three times to fly and cut off escape routes, and one time to fend off attackers.”

He opened his mouth, but this time, she was the one cutting him off.

“As your responsible partner, I’m not letting you go back into the field while you’re incapacitated. I’ve come to rely on you being aerial and four-limbed when the case requires it.” Well, it sounded good to her. And it was true, sort of, so there was that. Even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

The Devil, older than the stars, raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you saying that you only love me for my wings?”

She rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do with him?

Well, there was one thing, and she went ahead and did it; leaning over him and kissing him while stroking his face with one hand.

In response, he raised his arms to hug her to him. “You were incredibly brave, coming for me, my love,” he whispered against her lips. “I should be angry at you endangering yourself like this, but I know it’s a lost cause.”

She smiled against his lips. “You’re damned right. I’ll always come for you. To Hell, if need be.”

The warmth of his arms around her tightened. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.”

* * *

“You know,” Lucifer said, water dripping into his eyes and onto his face from his artfully mussed wet hair, “I always thought sharing a hot tub with you would be more Hot Tub Highschool and less ER.”

Chloe waved her pair of tongs at him. “Turn around.”

He sighed, thwarted, but did as she told him, presenting her his beautiful, bare back and tragically mutilated wings.

He’d done what he could, pulling out all the clipped primaries that he could reach, probably just using his fingers. She hadn’t been present - he had made sure of that. The dozens of tiny wounds this had caused had healed by now. The result, though, looked just like one would expect, and only the remaining white down feathers covering most of the skin kept his wings from looking like a plucked chicken’s.

It was almost cute, and he was clearly embarrassed by it, which didn’t make it any less cute.

She focused on one soggy, truncated pinion near his spine and applied her tongs. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Well, count to three, then.”

He took a breath to start the count, and she pulled. “One-- ow!”

A single drop of blood oozed out of the wound, quickly mixing with the water on his skin and running down his back and into the pool.

“Bloody hell!”

She closed the tongs around the feather next to it and pulled it out with a quick, strong tug while Lucifer still cast about for words to express his torment.

“Ow! Give a devil a warning!”

She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ve pulled too many band aids off Trixie’s knees --” another feather was gripped -- “to know that giving you time to focus on your woes is the exact wrong way to go about this.” And again she pulled.

“Ow ow ow!”

“Aw.” She brushed a kiss against the tiny wound. “Sorry.”

He flexed his stunted wings away from his body, flapping them ineffectually and pathetically. “This is so embarrassing.”

She bit down her grin. “Hold still, and it’ll be over sooner.”

He grumbled, but he didn’t protest.

So she went to work, and amidst much cursing and involuntary splashing and twitching of mutilated wings, she finally got the last clipped feather out. “There. All done.”

He sighed. “Finally.” Shrugging his poor wings away, he turned back around. “I’d like to request a bit of sexual healing from my ordeal, please.” He widened his great, big, brown eyes underneath his dark curls to underline his misery.

By way of replying, she brought her naked body close to his, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled them together.

He purred. “Hmmm. You’re just what the doctor ordered.”

* * *

Much later - they had relocated into their bedroom at some point, and when she next checked the time, it was definitely too late to get back into the precinct -, Lucifer raised his head from her shoulder with an expression of dismay. “Oh no.”

She felt the lazy warmth of the afterglow drop off her. “What is it?”

He fixed his faux serious expression on his face, which instantly served to calm her. This clearly was Lucifer gearing up to being Lucifer. “I forgot to give those glowing blobs back their key.”

She stared at him.

“It’s probably still in my pocket.”

She gently slapped his cheek.

He was grinning like a loon. “Think they’ll miss it?”

“We can always recruit a couple of tantils to bring it back.”

He chortled, his eyes sparkling with love.

It was then that Chloe realized that she hadn’t had a mini freak-out about Lucifer being the Devil, about their son being the Devil’s spawn, or about the fact that most of her friends had wings, since waking up this morning. She had finally, truly made peace with the fact that her oddball partner was Satan Himself.

Which was when Lucifer shifted to his true form unprompted and without warning, and, as she looked into his now softly glowing eyes, she realized that accepting the fact didn’t mean that it had ceased to thrill her.

Which was just as well.


End file.
